El Conde (2023)
Since finding a revitalization in the 2000s, the vampire genre has been one of exponential growth taking over nearly all genres and cultures. This is, of course, not a new concept considering vampire films have had a place in cinema since the earliest features and have been used as one of the more complex outlets for cinematic ideas from the start, but this recent growth is still undeniable. Releasing through Netflix, filmmaker Pablo Larraín enters this genre with El Conde, the follow-up to his 2021 Academy Award nominated Spencer. The film reimagines Chilean dictator Augusto Pinochet, played here by Jaime Vadell, as a vampire who is ready to face his death and goes through his history on Earth and complex situations in the present to mixed results.
From the basic synopsis alone, it is clear that El Conde is a rather inspired effort with a natural eye and concept for comedy. Taking this awful historical figure and placing them under this fantastical light, the film works best when it embraces a more absurdist timeline and playground of events. From Pinochet being present at the beheading of Marie Antoinette, even taking a quick lick of the guillotine used in the act, to a rather hilarious reveal towards the end of the film that sees Pinochet interwoven with another awful historical figure, these are the scenes and concepts that truly feel like El Conde is embracing its own potential to the fullest and finds the best results.
It is tragic, therefore, that these scenes are so far and in between. The bulk of the feature is set in the present day where Pinochet is dealing with family drama through a slow and overly dense style that becomes taxing to get through. While the occasional joke or reaction will land, Vadell is perfect for this role, this section of the film can be frustrating. The movie never has the cleverness to make the slower dry style of comedy work, especially against the more fantastical comedy throughout the feature that is clearly more engaging and worthwhile. It can be difficult to follow the film's plot and the character's motivations in these segments due to its spread out nature which feels like it would play disastrously on a streaming platform considering the amount of distractions present to help entice viewers away from the tedious feature in front of them.
Adding to this frustration is how quickly many of the scenes taking place throughout history actually move. Giving very little time to breathe, what is shown quickly is reduced to being that of an afterthought for the feature while large chunks of content which should be included, like Pinochet's reign, are often overlooked entirely. To take a figure as controversial and heavy as Pinochet and redefine them through a comedic lens is one that requires a certain amount of understanding and delicacy, two things the film fails to provide. For those unaware of who the figure is, or those unwilling to do a quick Google search, it is hard to see the film being that welcoming when it comes to giving context and a baseline of information. El Conde is a film that, at nearly every turn, makes itself a difficult film for global audiences to engage with, only adding to the confusion of a film like this being released on a platform such as Netflix.
The film, however, is not a worthless experience. Beyond the moments of comedy that land, there is a rather beautiful cinematic identity throughout the feature. Largely found in the relationship between the film's cinematography, coming from Edward Lachman, and its classical soundtrack, there are some truly breathtaking scenes with a particularly memorable flying sequence coming at around the halfway point for the feature. These little moments help the film find a connective tissue to Pablo Larraín's larger filmography and impressive cinematic eye that has been proven time and time again.
While the concept of El Conde is sure to sound promising and exciting, expectations need to be kept in check going into the film. Often overly slow and dragged out, the film fails to truly make full use of its concept and instead, offers only tastes of the greatness it could have been. While the cinematic quality is strong, the narrative fails to be that engaging. These issues are only made more glaring as the film will ask the majority of audiences to view the film from home rather than on the big screen, continuing Netflix's beyond odd assortment of originals which continue to often feel like the worst possible choices for what the platform could deliver.
From the basic synopsis alone, it is clear that El Conde is a rather inspired effort with a natural eye and concept for comedy. Taking this awful historical figure and placing them under this fantastical light, the film works best when it embraces a more absurdist timeline and playground of events. From Pinochet being present at the beheading of Marie Antoinette, even taking a quick lick of the guillotine used in the act, to a rather hilarious reveal towards the end of the film that sees Pinochet interwoven with another awful historical figure, these are the scenes and concepts that truly feel like El Conde is embracing its own potential to the fullest and finds the best results.
It is tragic, therefore, that these scenes are so far and in between. The bulk of the feature is set in the present day where Pinochet is dealing with family drama through a slow and overly dense style that becomes taxing to get through. While the occasional joke or reaction will land, Vadell is perfect for this role, this section of the film can be frustrating. The movie never has the cleverness to make the slower dry style of comedy work, especially against the more fantastical comedy throughout the feature that is clearly more engaging and worthwhile. It can be difficult to follow the film's plot and the character's motivations in these segments due to its spread out nature which feels like it would play disastrously on a streaming platform considering the amount of distractions present to help entice viewers away from the tedious feature in front of them.
Adding to this frustration is how quickly many of the scenes taking place throughout history actually move. Giving very little time to breathe, what is shown quickly is reduced to being that of an afterthought for the feature while large chunks of content which should be included, like Pinochet's reign, are often overlooked entirely. To take a figure as controversial and heavy as Pinochet and redefine them through a comedic lens is one that requires a certain amount of understanding and delicacy, two things the film fails to provide. For those unaware of who the figure is, or those unwilling to do a quick Google search, it is hard to see the film being that welcoming when it comes to giving context and a baseline of information. El Conde is a film that, at nearly every turn, makes itself a difficult film for global audiences to engage with, only adding to the confusion of a film like this being released on a platform such as Netflix.
The film, however, is not a worthless experience. Beyond the moments of comedy that land, there is a rather beautiful cinematic identity throughout the feature. Largely found in the relationship between the film's cinematography, coming from Edward Lachman, and its classical soundtrack, there are some truly breathtaking scenes with a particularly memorable flying sequence coming at around the halfway point for the feature. These little moments help the film find a connective tissue to Pablo Larraín's larger filmography and impressive cinematic eye that has been proven time and time again.
While the concept of El Conde is sure to sound promising and exciting, expectations need to be kept in check going into the film. Often overly slow and dragged out, the film fails to truly make full use of its concept and instead, offers only tastes of the greatness it could have been. While the cinematic quality is strong, the narrative fails to be that engaging. These issues are only made more glaring as the film will ask the majority of audiences to view the film from home rather than on the big screen, continuing Netflix's beyond odd assortment of originals which continue to often feel like the worst possible choices for what the platform could deliver.